


Only Wild Druffalos and Free Marchers

by al_fletcher, athenril_of_kirkwall (al_fletcher)



Series: Siân Trevelyan (and the Skyhold Crew) [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Fluff, Making Out, Minor Character(s), Rated M for Makeouts, Romance, Skyhold (Dragon Age), Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/al_fletcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/athenril_of_kirkwall
Summary: Siân and Cullen share a moment in the snow. They're not quite alone.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Jim & Minaeve (Dragon Age), Jim (Dragon Age)/Other(s)
Series: Siân Trevelyan (and the Skyhold Crew) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939525
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fics





	Only Wild Druffalos and Free Marchers

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for "Taste of rain on the tongue", albeit with the precipitation changed a little.

“Absolutely not,” the former Knight-Captain complained as he hunched himself even further over his desk, huddling to brace himself against the rush of cold wind that had come through the wide-open door which framed his Inquisitor, Siân Trevelyan.

Sian crossed her arms and leant on the doorframe, pouting. “Come _on_ , Cullen. I’ve got to start packing for our expedition in the Hissing Wastes starting tomorrow so I’ve got nothing to do today, and I’ve finished all the armour upgrades with Dagna and Harritt that I wanted to. Can’t we spend some time outside while there’s still light?”

Cullen caught a stray sheet of parchment about to be liberated from his desk by the incoming gusts, saying, “ _No._ And close the door already, please.”

“This door doesn’t close until you’re outside the this room, Cullen,” Siân stated.

Packing the papers together and weighing them down with a bare candlestick-holder, Cullen gestured beyond the doorway, declaring, “In case you somehow missed it on the way here, it is snowing, Lady Trevelyan.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that fact, and using my surname like a stern mother isn’t going to send me packing to my room, Ser Rutherford,” Siân said, picking up a loose gewgaw from a barrel within reach. “Either come up and take this from me, or…”

“Or what?”, Cullen asked, glaring.

“Or I can easily hit this candlestick from over here with it, and scatter all of your papers, meaning that if you don’t take a break now you’ll be working on them even later into the night.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

Sian tossed it to herself. “I think you know me better than that, Cullen.”

He sprang to his feet, crossing the room in three long strides, and reached her just time to watch it leave her hand and clatter into a corner of the room, a few yards from his table. As he wheeled around to assess the damage, Siân hooked her foot around his ankle and spun him out of the room entirely, closing her door behind her as she placed herself between him and his office.

“You—”, he spluttered.

Sian took a bow. “Figured that’s what it would take to get you out of that chair. _Now_ will you spend some time outside here with me?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”, Cullen asked, rubbing his upper arms to warm them up a little.

“No,” she said. “Come on, let’s go down to the courtyard.”

A fresh snowfall had descended on Skyhold, with stray snowflakes dancing in the air, and the afternoon sun shining gently off each of the snowbanks which blanketed the walls and floors of the ancient fortress. Siân and Cullen gingerly descended the snow-covered stairs down to the courtyard before the main keep, where the snow had driven everyone except a few guards and some itinerant merchants indoors.

“See?”, Siân said, turning round to face Cullen, “Now we can get some time together, here.”

“Right in view of everybody in Skyhold,” Cullen remarked.

“What’re they going to know, that we’re…well, we’re what we are?”, Siân asked. “I think Scout Jeremias has probably told half of Thedas already.”

“I explicitly told him _not_ to after he caught us on the battlements,” Cullen sulked.

Sian didn’t even dignify that with a response, just returning him a withering look.

“You realise not everybody has the same natural propensity towards rebelling against me as you do,” Cullen protested.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess not. Still, I’d hardly be surprised if he hadn’t let someone know already.”

“I guess not,” Cullen mused, struggling to remember the name of that elf whom he’d seen Jim with in the Chantry courtyard. Was she the wildlife researcher they’d had at Haven? Well, detai—

He’d been smacked with a snowball.

Dusting the snow off himself, he scooped up enough from the ground to make one and cast it in Sian’s direction, but she dodged it adeptly.

“Sorry about that,” she said, laughing, “but you were so lost in thought I was going to fetch Solas to snap you out of the Fade.”

“Tell me,” Cullen said, “did you enjoy doing all this when you were younger as well?”

“Well, it’s a bit warmer up in Ostwick, but whenever we came down to Orlais in the winter my brother and I would play in the snow if we could. Our parents objected at first, but they soon realised that letting twins run around in the snow was a lot better than dealing with two cranky children cooped up indoors.”

“That…does explain a lot. As well as your skill in bowling over candlesticks.”

“Oh, that’s from playing palm tennis in the house too,” Siân said. “We were made to stop after we put a dent in Judicael Valmont I’s ear. In my defence, I never knew it was plaster.”

Pinching at the furrow between his eyebrows, “Maker help me, you must have been one…challenging…child, along with your brother. What else did you do when you were frolicking in the frost, if I dare ask?”

“Well, there’s the simple pleasures in life,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

“What are you—”

She bobbed her head towards a languidly descending snowflake, catching it with the pad of her tongue, licking her lips with a childish glee.

“You really are an overgrown child, you know that?”, Cullen said.

“And yet still you can’t help but be drawn to me,” Siân laughed. “Come on, your turn.”

“ _Absolutely not_.”

“I think we’ve established that there’s really no absolutes when it comes to you, Cullen,” Siân said.

“Will you let me go back to my office if I just catch one?”, he asked, beleaguered.

“Sure”, Siân said, shrugging her shoulders.

Watching one dangle from the sky, Cullen rolled his eyes as he extended his tongue to catch it as Siân waited expectantly.

No sooner had the sudden bite of cold faded into momentary numbness did he feel Sian’s mouth around his tongue, hers sliding up and down it as her lips crashed into his. After some momentary surprise, he returned it, withdrawing his tongue but ravishing her lips until they both had to break away for breath.

Catching hers, Siân said, “So, about going back to your office…”

Glancing at the stairs up, he answered her, “Immediately.”

“Immediately?”, she asked, catching the crook of his elbow with hers.

Leaning in, he growled in that exact way she loved so much, repeating himself.

“ _Immediately._ ”

Then they were gone, dashing up the stairs like a pair of lovestruck teenagers whilst a couple of figures in the armoury witnessing the scene judged them. Behind them, Lysette came up holding a tray with some mugs of hot malt with sugar puffs floating on them.

“What’d I miss?”, asked the Templar.

Jim turned to her, faux-scandalised. “Only the Inquisitor and the Knight-Captain mashing faces. _Again_.”

“What!”, Lysette cried. “I step out for _five minutes_ to get drinks and I miss everything?!”

Minaeve reached out for the hot malt, gingerly picking at the marshmallow, saying “Oh, right, thank you! And yes, she’d dragged him all the way down there and pounced on him.”

“ _She_ made her move first?!”, Lysette asked, continuing, “That’s not how you said you caught them last time, Jim.”

Jeremias took his drink and a sip of it before saying, “I’m as surprised as you are! Looks like she decided to be the bold one this time. Well, we won’t be seeing them again anytime soon, the way they ran off.”

“Good for her,” Minaeve said. “I think I’d have thrown up if they’d decided to keep acting so cute right in the middle of the snow.”

“I hear that,” Jim said. “Once was bad enough, twice is just misfortune. Thanks for the tip though, Lysette, this _really_ is the warmest spot in Skyhold.”

“ _Naturellement_ ,” Lysette said. “ _Sensible_ people like us know to find a cosy spot in weather such as this instead of freezing outside for no reason.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Minaeve said, raising her mug for a toast.

Jeremias raised his too, saying, “Me too.”

“To cosy spots in the armoury and accidental voyeurism, then,” Lysette finished, drinking up.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://athenril-of-kirkwall.tumblr.com/post/630288368741351424/


End file.
